


Sex Core

by salarta



Category: Metroid Series, Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Plug, Body Modification, Humiliation, In Container, Morph Ball, Non Consensual, Other, Robot Sex, Robots, Science Experiments, Sex, Touch Denial, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-26
Updated: 2011-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-24 01:35:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salarta/pseuds/salarta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Samus Aran answers a distress call. Her rescue mission ends in failure, and recruitment. For science.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic back in May. I've been limiting what I upload here, because I have this feeling the bulk of my writing would be met with disapproval for its content and the way characters are used, but this is one I think may be safe and good enough quality-wise to upload here. As always, I had a hard time thinking of good tags. If anyone has any suggestions for tags to add, let me know!

The distress call came from a planet very familiar to the Galactic Federation. As it should: it was the location of their headquarters.

Earth. That prosperous, verdant and azure planet hovering around its yellow sun, the origin of all human life in the universe.

Every signal Samus sent to the Galactic Federation about this tiny cry upon Earth's surface rippling into space was met with dismissal.

"Access denied my ass," Samus sneered, as her ship ripped into the planet's atmosphere. With her experience at planetary landing and takeoff, she guided her ship next to the facility, the beeps of stranded survivors of some unknown plight bouncing off the inner walls around her.

She lifted herself from her pilot seat, stood center of the exit platform as it lowered onto the wheat fields below, and gazed up at the dilapidated structure. Its age showed in its crumbled cement walls and rusted white sign, large letters strewn on the ground like bulky autumn leaves. With the building in such disrepair, she had but one option.

Orange energy flooded her arm cannon. Aiming, she secured its angle, disintegrating the centuries-old blockade with one blast from her fully charged beam.

Her path lay open before her. Samus, setting her arm at ease, sprinted down the hallway. Wall panels tinted neon green by her visor blurred, her eyes focused on the screen prompts sharing warnings and facts about her surroundings. Then, suddenly, a rush of white replaced the familiar colors of her scanner vision. Her legs slowed, her ponytail swished against her back, and as she came to a stop inches from a metal door, she looked herself over.

Her Varia Suit phased in and out of existence. The clingy blue bodysuit, hugging every supple curve of her trained amazonian physique, strobed pink light from the sigils on her back, hands and chest. She turned, studying the field behind her, a width-wise span of the corridor passing blue particles between wall-mounted devices. She pondered the destruction of her suit and stepped closer to the particle field when her armor reformed.

Plates shifted onto her arms and legs. Her visor glowed over her eyes. A diagnostic scan of her systems confirmed stable condition, every part of her suit intact from her shields against the elements to morph ball bombs and ballistic missiles.

Samus looked at the corner camera as she waited, the mechanical door twisting and parting for her. With her entrance, she stared at the flailing, whirring machine hanging from the ceiling.

"How disappointing." The robotic female AI spoke, every other syllable strained through the computerized emotional grill of her programming. "I thought I had a new robot test subject. That's okay. Sanitation drones can use the fluids leaking from your vaginal cavity as a cleaning solvent for our floors. Clean white floors are preferable for testing, even if they make the testing chambers smell like a house of prostitution."

Samus scowled. Though she learned not to respond to such insults, beneath the surface she roiled with secret callbacks never to be said. "My name is Samus Aran, bounty hunter. I picked up a distress signal from this facility, and since the Galactic Federation refuses to accept my transmissions, I have taken it upon myself to rescue any survivors trapped in stasis in your facility. What are you, and where can I find your survivors?"

GLaDOS shook her head. "Aperture Laboratories does not have any survivors, only test subjects. I would be happy to include you as a test subject if you can prove you're not stupid."

Samus narrowed her eyes at the robot. Raising her arm cannon, she threatened, "Tell me where the survivors are and help me escort them out of your facility. If you do not comply, I will be forced to destroy you."

"Did you know humans that solve their problems with aggression are scientifically proven to be morons? It says so right here: humans too stupid to solve problems by other means resort to violence. Aggressive tendencies are further increased in women who need constant sexual stimulation, hereafter referred to as whores. That's exactly what it says. Very professional. Peer reviewed." GLaDOS swiveled from her base, in a perfect circle, and cocked her rectangular, metal head at Samus. "I will need to find a different purpose for you within Aperture Laboratories."

She'd heard enough. Samus charged her Power Beam... or tried. No sound, no light, no energy surged from her green gun. She smacked, then punched it with her free hand.

"How strange and fortunate that your Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device is no longer operational," GLaDOS remarked.

Samus answered, "It's not a portal device, it's my Arm Cannon. What did you do to my suit?"

Before Samus could dodge-roll away, a mechanical pincer clutched the bounty hunter around her armored suit. She struggled in vain, and for the briefest of moments, a hint at escape eeked out when her Varia Suit glowed bright. Yet as the light dispersed, she remained, the strength-enhancing elements of her suit rendered useless by some unknown factor. She helplessly dangled like a worm on a hook before the enemy AI.

GLaDOS dipped closer. "When you entered my chamber, the Aperture Science Material Emancipation Grid emancipated any unauthorized testing materials. As the administrator of the testing facility, I decided to leave some parts of your technology intact and allow the Emancipation Grid to vaporize other parts that would be destructive to my operations. It would have emancipated your underwear, but you don't wear any. Slut."

"Damn it!" Samus shouted. "You don't know who you're messing with. Let me go this instant."

GLaDOS shook her fragile, armored hostage with her pincer arm.

"I know what I'm looking at, a jiggly human in a robotic suit. Your suit can't operate without an operator, and I need more time to replicate your technology. You're worthless to me as a test subject, but from an analysis of your suit's functions, I can put you to a different use. To make you compatible with Aperture Science facilities, some upgrades will be made. For science."


	2. Chell's New Partner

The elevator slowed its descent. Video looped on the curved walls, displaying the same sorry, outdated bits of information through generic human shapes. As her transport's doors opened, Chell held her portal gun aloft and briskly jogged up the stairs. The next room offered passage to her same as every other, and the informative testing panel blinked soft white light to reveal black text and graphics.

Chell puzzled at the new icons. A small ball with rotational arrows around it? The same sphere, bouncing along with a trail of arcing lines in its wake? These and a few more boxes, some unlit, revealed a slew of new testing procedures. Bracing herself, she stepped into the chamber.

"I have a new partner for you," GLaDOS announced, and... was that a hint of euphoric glee layered under the filters? "I felt terrible watching you lose the only friend you ever made, after I murdered him. Like you murdered me. You monster."

Chell jumped.

GLaDOS replied, "I know you're worried she might feel insecure about having well-toned muscles and attractive slimness instead of whale blubber, and the number of souvenirs her friends left inside her uterus could leave you depressed. I found a solution for both of your problems. Meet Samus, Aperture Laboratories' newest Personality Core."

A ceiling panel collapsed in on itself, and a small metal ball crashed to the floor at Chell's feet. Greenish-yellow energy glowed between the ball's halves, while three crooked indentations to each side coalesced into circular grooves on opposite ends.

"I'm not a Personality Core, I'm a bounty hunter and a human being!" Samus hopped around Chell.

Undaunted, GLaDOS explained, "I've added special functionality to this Personality Core and rebuilt prototype testing devices for her unique talents. I think you will make a great team, like a good buddy cop movie if one cop was an unlovable orphan and the other cop was a raging nymphomaniac. Good luck!"

"Of all the ways I've lost my equipment during missions, this is by far the most humiliating," Samus sighed. Her morph ball rolled back ever so slightly, the black diagonal slits acting as primitive, metallic closed eyes as she spoke. "You must be one of the survivors. I came to rescue you, but that damned AI removed all my offensive capabilities and trapped me in my morph ball form. As much as the modifications she made to my Varia Suit disgust me, we'll have to use them if we want to get out of here. You know my name, what's yours?"

They stared. And stared. And stared.

And stared.

At each other. Chell studied Samus' features, noting the peculiarities of the new Personality Core compared to her brother and sister units, with metal tinted orange, lacking an eye or handles, able to travel and bounce of her own lively volition.

Samus broke the silence. "Oh, you have a case of mute. I had that once. Terrible feeling. I guess we should save sharing time for later and focus on the task at hand."

Rolling about, Samus observed her surroundings from her lowly angle. Everything towered above her, a world of giants to a defenseless, scurrying rat. Clear glass and pearly white walls trapped the duo in a single room. A black slab, a gateway by design, sealed them off from their destination across a murky green acid pit.

Samus perked up, as much as a small expressionless metal ball could, when Chell pointed to an open tube jutting from the ceiling.

"What luck! If there's one thing I excel at in my morph ball form, it's navigating tubes." She jumped, rising to the very lip of the tube's entrance... and clattered to the floor. A few more failures later, she looked to her partner.

"It's too high. Do you have any ideas?"

She bounded aside as a beam shot from Chell's portal gun. The signature blue field of an incomplete passage formed an oval where Samus once rested. A second, orange blast reached the ceiling, linking the portals as a space-time tunnel through the miracle of science.

"Oh yes, portals. The AI thought my arm cannon was a portal gun, now I know why. You know this facility and how to use portals better than me, I'll trust your judgment."

"Out of every 5,000 morons, 4,987 take more than 1800 seconds to recognize they cannot function without a person of average intelligence to guide them," GLaDOS said. "I'm GLaD you're among the few proud outliers. It's inspiring to see a Personality Core with the mental age of a toddler take to her role as an assistant so quickly."

Samus ignored GLaDOS. She hurtled herself into the blue portal, plummeting through a quantum bottomless pit. Gravity transformed the bounty hunter into a streaking orange blur, and with a FWOOP, the next pass catapulted her up the tube.

Chell pressed her hand against the nearest glass pane. Seconds later, she watched from her side as Samus majestically soared from the Aperture Science Pipe Network... into a pit of acid.

The murky, bile green corrosive splashed and bubbled, as Samus hit the surface and sank to the bottom. Her armor weathered the threat, hardly a chink made in its resistant shields before a black pincer claw plucked her from the pit. A short distance later, she found herself dropped through the ceiling, once again discarded at Chell's feet.

GLaDOS mocked, "I'm amazed by the advances made in idiot-proof technology since I've been dead. Before that lunatic murdered me, we only had padded helmets."

"Next time, warn me about not-so-little details like air pressure in tubes," Samus growled before looking to Chell. "Let's try this again."

They repeated the mundane process, Samus flying through portals and Chell launching her through the only passage provided by GLaDOS. Samus rode the air currents and strategically flicked her weight into dead ends, running the remaining scanners in her suit to view the short few feet in her radius. Down the winding corridors, she glided out the exit, colliding into a black-tiled wall. She rounded its corner, approached the next testing apparatus and read its information icon.

"Not even the Space Pirates made me sink to such lows," Samus grumbled.

Launching herself airborne, she rotated as her morph ball sent an analytic laser at its target and read the data back into her suit. The grey metal docking jack on her morph ball's right side opened, exposing the fleshy, very human inner treasure from the GLaDOS-instituted lock on her robot exterior. A rush of air passed over her anus, a brief warning of the anguish to come as Samus made contact.

"AGH!" She cried. She buried herself on the phallic pole, shaking and wriggling inch by inch down its length. One tap of her armor against the wall shot prongs from the rim of her port, sharply clamping into grooves. "This... this is a tighter fit than A-"

"What did you say, Nymphomaniac Personality Sphere? I couldn't hear you over the sound of your orgasm," chimed the all-seeing AI.

"SHUT UP!" Samus yelled, as the prong's metal girth stretched her taut ass.

The cold, steely thickness pried into her wincing hole. But that wasn't enough. Despite the pain and outrage Samus felt, forced to sodomize herself for the corrupted delight of a tyrannical administrative AI, GLaDOS had to alter that little bit extra about her morph ball functions to kick her while she was down.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!" Samus screamed as she went through with the deed: the dreaded Screw Attack. The clockwise spin was the easy part, the pole turning in tandem with her motion as energy burst from the large crack down her morph ball. Counterclockwise, the prongs clicked over each indentation, while the prod scraped roughly against her soft anal folds. Her body held out where weaker humans failed, not one drop of blood shed as she worked her ass to the machine with robotic consistence.

The black slab dropped. A sturdy Hard Light Bridge stretched over the acid pit, its blue tint fading each time Samus spun in reverse. Chell sprinted across the gap, leapt onto clean white floor. She stood before Samus as the bounty hunter stopped, the prongs retracting into her suit.

"Get me off this damn thing," Samus said. With a button press from Chell's portal gun, she viciously ripped off the shaft, hovering in front of GLaDOS' favorite test subject. The black slab raised, the bridge dispersed, trapping the duo at the chamber's central platform. "Ngh! That could have gone smoother. I hate to ask you to do this, but can you check me... back there? I feel a little... um... raw."

Chell nodded. Spinning the morph ball to its side, she got but a glimpse of Samus' pert, puffy rear before the port snapped shut. She poked and knocked on the docking jack's grey metal seal.

"What the hell!" Samus griped.

"Aperture Science Nymphomaniac Personality Sphere port access is restricted to other Aperture Science technology," GLaDOS informed. "This feature prevents Aperture Laboratories test subjects from damaging critical testing devices. It also ensures you can't solicit any complex biological mating interactions that could distract test subjects and result in impregnation. Whore."

"I can't even access my own privates without permission. Great. May as well stamp a giant Property of Aperture Labs logo on me." An eerie quiet fell over the room, as the thought sank in. "Don't you dare!"

GLaDOS explained, "Experimental Aperture Science technology requires thorough testing before it receives the Aperture Laboratories seal of approval. Defective Aperture Science Personality Cores are euthanized in Aperture Science Emergency Intelligence Incinerators, where they experience painful, fiery deaths."

"Meaning I have to spend the rest of my life like this if I perform to your twisted expectations, and if I don't, I'm burned alive. I can't say I like either prospect."

"If it makes you feel better, I'll add a positive note on your record. 'Samus Aran spent the last years of her life advancing the cause of science with her morph ball body.'" GLaDOS' notation strangely omitted the usual veiled insults Samus came to expect from the corrupted AI.

Then GLaDOS added to the file.

"'The Nymphomaniac Personality Sphere, the first and only one created by Aperture Laboratories, applied her loose, sloppy vagina and anus to testing equipment with the same skill and passion she showed toward thousands of past sexual partners.' There, now your hard work will be remembered by countless generations."

"Thanks a lot... I would've been better off if she killed me in the first place," Samus muttered under her breath. "Let's just get back to testing before this gets worse."

Chell ran back the way she came, past the barrier wall used to catch Samus on exit from the pipe network. At the platform's other end, she marveled at the criss-crossing array of Hard Light Bridges toward the chamber's exit, an overly complicated system of switch-offs overhanging deadly acid below. She placed one foot on the passage, readying for a dash along its route, when its transparent blue form disappeared. The condensed surface hid, invisible to the eye, yet every bit supportive as before. Removing her foot, the bridge's color flickered back on.

GLaDOS announced, "Oh look, you broke the bridge. I should put a sign on these things. Hold on for a moment."

Floor panels opened. A sign rose into view from its depths. Once stable, Chell read its dire   
warning: 'Maximum weight limit: Great Whale.'

"Will you leave us alone already?!" Samus said. "She's not fat. In fact, she looks very beautiful."

The soft, innocent smile inching from the corners of Chell's lips left a warm tingle in the bounty hunter's heart, or what counted for one in her current state.

GLaDOS said, "You make a very cute couple. I'm convinced. I'm going to bring in new test subjects by starting a dating service to help more fat, smelly virgins meet desperate, horny prostitutes."

Ignoring the AI, Samus looked about the room. "Hmm, not many options.... aha! That device right there, let's see what it can do for us."

Chell's eyes trained at the contraption waiting under the pipe from whence Samus came. It lit up as she moved closer, fluorescent brightness illuminating the round depression and another icon.

"I see," Samus said. "If you put me here, it'll do something to my morph ball that allows me to make a trail for you to follow. Set me in the hole."

Chell complied.

Samus settled into the groove, a perfect match for its depth and contours. Gripping plates rotated her from Chell's shoddy drop job to the ideal position. Her armor hummed with an electric shimmer over her shiny frame.

"This isn't so bad. Reminds me of the upgrades I'd find on my missions. Connect to an electronic system, install the tech to my suit for new and more powerful functions, I... wait, wait what's going on?"

Mid-turn, the docking jack of Samus' left side unlocked and spread, flashing her pussy to Chell. Gentle golden swaths of hair lined the inward-curling slit, its mane as untamed as the lion of a bounty hunter that called it hers. The jewel of Samus' body blushed pink for her, disappearing from Chell's view as the open port moved to its next phase, facing the groove's low center head-on.

"Assume the Orgasmic Discharge Emission Position," the machine chimed. A prod smoothed from the basin, its sleek tip rising toward its aligned channel.

"WHAT?! Oh you have got to be AH!" Samus wailed as the shaft slammed into her open-air sex. She braced for the natural pull and pump of a mechanized dildo, when instead a fierce charge jolted alive in her rough-thatched loins.

"Nnnnnnnn get me off get me off get me off GET ME OFF!" Samus screamed her lust against Chell's eardrums. Her morph ball jittered as a current fried her sensitive nerves through the most coaxing, liquid ripples of sopping arousal.

Chell took two steps back, portal gun aimed at her feet should shrapnel fly in an untimely core explosion. She observed the yellow-green energy down Samus' split ball spill into the curving metal grooves down her bottom half.

GLaDOS announced, "This is taking longer than expected. You're very resilient for a Personality Sphere."

"You can force me through your tests, but you can't destroy my mind or my body. I'm a born warrior, trained for physical hardship and any mental torture meant to break me. I have Chozo AND Metroid DNA inside me!" Samus roared.

"I'm sure you have a lot of DNA inside you. Hundreds and hundreds of strands of DNA," GLaDOS remarked.

"Go to he- OH! Oh no not there. Anywhere but th- NONONONONO." Samus' voice degraded into a mismatched pattern as the suit's echoic communicator broke down, testament to the sheer power coursing through her. Blue sparks shot from her port hole, her sweltering pussy building to a limited battery store of sizzling energy.

"I'm almost... almost...." she moaned.

The aroma of Samus' sex wafted as a fine mist from the basin. Chell waved the unfamiliar scent from her crinkled nose. Gawking at the obscene spectacle, her thoughts raced with the naive innocence of a sex amateur as she fought to make sense of what played out before her.

"Oh, I forgot about you," GLaDOS' attention switched to Chell. "Don't worry, moaning is a perfectly natural reaction to sexual stimulation. You'll learn about it yourself when you meet a nice young man. It's not like you're one of those hopeless smelly virgins that never leave their basements. Oh wait, you're in a basement. And you've never had sex. And you haven't bathed in a long, long time. I'm sure it's just a coincidence. It's not like you're going to spend the rest of your life down here doing science."

DING! With that playful oven sound, the basin's mechanical hands set Samus down.

GLaDOS said, "Good, the popcorn's done. Get it while it's hot."

Walking to the machine, Chell raised her portal gun and lifted Samus with its grab function. Peering at Samus' pussy port, she looked through the small, constricted hole made by its partial close to see a criss-cross of blue electricity awash over her red, swollen vulva. She cocked an eyebrow at a sudden wince by Samus' folds.

"Ooooooooh!" Samus cried.

She was too late. Chell reared back as clear hot arousal shot from the port, splattering across her oily, dirt-smudged face. Fluttering her sky blue eyes, she assessed herself. Warm, aromatic musk dribbled down her cheek, snuck over the edge of her chin and rivered down her neck. It disappeared into the tunnel of her slender bosom to finally soak into her white Aperture Laboratories tanktop.

"Look, she left you a gift," GlaDOS noted. "An edible one at that. I suggest you take it, cake isn't a good snack for someone of your... generous... proportions."

"S... set me down," Samus said.

She fell and bounced. New ejaculate gushed from her port as she rolled toward the Hard Light Bridge, the 'genius' of the device apparent as she wobbled along in a daze. She turned sharp corners, dropped to lower levels, jumped to greater heights, all as orgasms ripped through her buzzing pussy. Her agonized moans echoed off the chamber's walls.

"Almost... out of power..."

She checked the battery life of her pussy primer. The constant hum drew wetness, rebuilding a new charge she could release like the cooldown delay in her morph ball bombs. Each time she entered the so-called Orgasmic Discharge Emission Position, angled with her sex inches from the bridge's surface, an energetic sizzle passed between the platform and her port as a new breathy moan escaped through her communicator.

Reaching the end, she panted wild, the battery of her primer drained. The last vestiges of her horny hunger leaked from her port as it fully snapped shut, and she looked across the way at her keeper.

Chell walked along Samus' slick cum trails. Every cautious step followed the messy translucent bread crumbs of lust as a safety guide, the bridge's blue hue lost with her body's exceeding weight. As she clambered up to join Samus on the other side, she glanced across the pits for one final view of the completed chamber.

"Proceed into the Aperture Science Decontamination Unit," GLaDOS demanded.

Taking hold of Samus again, Chell obeyed the AI. Stepping through the first Emancipation Grid, she entered a long corridor, the metal door closing behind her. She approached the flashing bullseye ahead, as giant hoses popped out from parallel walls. She fixed herself to the spot.

GLaDOS added, "I have a surprise for you. There's no such thing as a decontamination unit. I made it up. Prepare for deadly neurotoxin in three... two... one..."

Chell shuddered as... confetti blasted from the hoses? Party horns blared.

"Just kidding. You should have seen the look on your face. You were all 'Oh no she's going to kill me like I killed her and the closest I ever came to not dying a lonely, pathetic virgin was getting egg on my face.' Or something like that. Now for the real decontamination."

The small tubes rattled, the new countdown signaling the onset of an outdated process established before the ruin of Aperture Laboratories. A pair of scissors descended and quickly snipped away the straps of Chell's tanktop and bra, reducing them to tattered fragments at her feet. Her modest tan-brown breasts jiggled to a soft sag on her chest, her twins capped with darker widgets rising in the unit's brisk cold air. The scissor arm broke in its reach for the hem of her grey shorts, hitting the floor with a thud, while the hoses spat white powder. Chell wiped what little made it out from her shoulders and glanced at the nearby camera.

GLaDOS spoke, "The Aperture Science Decontamination Unit is broken. Oh well, it's not like there's much I can do for the two of you anyway. You're just going to get sweaty and smelly again as you always do, and decontamination can't do much about the Nymphomaniac Personality Sphere's... bacterial... friends. The doors aren't working either. I'll look for another way to open them for you. Don't go anywhere."

They waited through the long pause, as GLaDOS worked out some solution, when one of the wall panels burst apart with the force of a big, round sphere.

"OH YEAH!" Wheatley shouted. Dangling beside the women, he returned to his rail and repositioned himself in their line of sight. "Sorry, sorry, I just, I saw that on a commercial once and I couldn't resist. Big wall, dead silence, it was so much fun! Heheh... heeeey, is that that new Sex Core I've been hearing about?"

"I am NOT a 'Sex Core!'" Samus growled.

"It is, it is! Oh, that's AMAZING! I know who we're dealing with, but to think she could create something that complex after such a long time is beyond phenomenal."

"I told you, I'm not a 'Sex Core'. I'm a human in an armored suit. That horrible AI found a way to trap me in my morph ball form and altered my suit's abilities to her sick schemes."

"Aha, aha, that's exactly how the file said the new Sex Core would respond. Very clever work she made right here, the Sex Core's so confident that she's a human." A sly shutter squint over Wheatley's eye cued his self-perceived intellect, cluelessly falling into the pit of lies constructed by GLaDOS to bury the bounty hunter's human past in a mountain of new robot history.

"Ugh. Fine, believe what you want. I'm a new Personality Core made for the sole purpose of thinking I'm a human and getting fucked in my miraculously human quality ass and pussy ports by Aperture Science machines. That makes a lot more sense than the AI getting her hands on alien technology and molding it to her will, right?"

Wheatley lamented, shaking his inner sphere side to side. "You gave up trying to convince me you're a human in less than a minute. Where's the fun in that, eh? I wanted a few more rounds of denial to see what clever little excuses you were programmed to come up with."

Samus sighed. "Listen, we need to get out of this test course, take down the AI's defenses and destroy her before she destroys us. Is there any way you can get us out of here?"

"Let's see, let's see.... big empty room, sealed doors, one lone rail..." Wheatley assessed before he came to his conclusion. "Nope! You'll have to tough it out until I can find a good breakout spot. But hey! Since you're here, I can leave you with some data sure to bring that nasty piece of work down if you two get to her without me."

Samus' newfound perkiness seemed to ooze off her, her black diagonal eye slits rising toward the new Personality Core. "You have a secret weapon? Quick, give it to me before she comes back!"

Taken aback by the Sex Core's brazen command, Wheatley's glassy eye popped out from his frame and shrank back as far as he did on the rail.

"I-I can't just GIVE it to you, hardly seems proper," he said, his Cockney accent wavering as he stuttered. "We, we only met a minute ago. I want to get to know you a little first, spend some quality time in the charging pods watching a good info-slideshow together. Have you seen the Animal King one yet?"

"Get to know each other first?" Samus questioned, incredulous, her annoyance flaring. "We don't have time for that! The longer we wait, the less time we'll have to interface. What's so complicated about two machines hooking together?"

Wheatley's metal shell heated crimson the closer he scrolled toward the duo. "A-are you sure now? No takebacks? This'll be my first time interfacing with another Core, I can't say it'll be too pleasant."

"Screw pleasant, I'll take it any way I can get it."

Wheatley hesitantly conceded. "Wow, you're eas... ily convinced. Not that that's a bad quality in a Sex Core, it's really very-"

"Get on with it!" Samus shouted.

"Alright, alright, don't get testy. I need you closer to start the process, and I can't do it when she's watching."

"Who, me?"

"No, her," Wheatley clarified.

Turning her head, Chell lifted herself on her tiptoes, shoving Samus higher on request. The mechanical whir of unknown code-induced processes between the two Cores swirled in her ear. Her arms trembled to support her gun and the morph ball package on its end.

"Ready, and 3.. 2... AH!"

Chell's ponytail whipped over her neck as she looked up at Wheatley.

Samus groaned. "What's wrong now?"

"I-I can't do it," he revealed. "They told me that if I ever did it with another Personality Core, I would die."

"Oh come on, you can't be that stupid can you?!" Samus snarled... then sighed as she regained composure. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap. This has been one embarrassing day for me and I want to end this nightmare as fast as I can. You're not going to die, if whoever 'they' are didn't want you to perform these functions, they never would've installed them in you."

"You're right, you're right... deep breaths, be a man," Wheatley told himself as his unseen audio grill simulated breathing. Flipping his round body, he exposed a network of wires and devices, new ones revealed as white plates collapsed over each other. Robot arms grabbed Samus, drawing her in until she pressed back to back against him.

Unknown to the demoted bounty hunter, an analytic laser shot from her morph ball, scanning Wheatley and unfurling her port's seal. She perfectly aligned to the coming exchange of pulses and nerves, blissfully naive to the sacred shaft extending from Wheatley's innermost Core layers.

The Intelligence Dampening Personality Sphere informed, "Okay, here we go in 3... 2... 1 aaand.... AH! AAAAAHH!"

His robot arms retreated into his shell as hooks latched inwardly around Samus' docking jack. Bonding themselves together proved a downside; a panicking Wheatley flailed down his rail, knocking away wall panel after wall panel, whipping his attached partner about with the finesse of a sledge hammer.

"CALM DOWN! Screaming and tossing me around everywhere isn't going to do anything to AH!" Samus joined the wailing nutball. "AAAAAHHH! AAAAAAAAAHH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!! What the hell did you put inside me?!"

"The Aperture Science Data Transmission Probe," GLaDOS announced, along with her return. "I leave you alone for five minutes and you've moved on from corrupting innocent little boys to corrupting innocent little Cores. Your inability to resist filling your vagina with anything that moves is commendable. You deserve an award."

Samus snapped, "Do you have to put 'Aperture Science' in front of everything? At this rate I'd expect you to have Aperture Science condoms lying around somewhere."

"Don't worry about the Aperture Science Seminal Filters, you never used seminal filters before and you'll never need them again for the rest of your service life," GLaDOS informed before explaining this latest device. "The Aperture Science Data Transmission Probe searches for the correct transmission configuration between Personality Spheres for an exchange of very, very private data."

Internal wheels guided Wheatley's probe. Beeping at the length-limit for this Core, the thin, tiny stick expanded to its full, mighty girth, splaying the bounty hunter's tired, sodden pussy. Its great mechanical prowess resisted the biological suck of Samus' clingy sex, the prod exiting with a reverse pump only to slam back hard with pneumatic pressure. She shuddered under the fierce power of the mecha-cocked sex bot known as Wheatley!

"Break the connection! Break it now!" Samus frantically implored.

Commands coursed through wires, dredging up subroutines in Wheatley's operating system, overwriting his present artificial emotions with a host of sex-specific templates. He responded, "Oooh Goood you have no idea how good this feels. Is this what I've been missing all my life? I never want it to end! And all I had to do was find a slutty Sex Core eager to interface."

"I told you I'm not a 'Sex Core' you moron, I'm a human being!" Samus almost screamed through a sharp circle-spin of the probe, as a new attachment popped out from its curved side before her sore sex lips. "How did I end up falling for such an obvious trick?"

GLaDOS chimed, "I created relevant files on your programming. Would you like me to read them out loud for you?"

"That's okay, I'd hate to burden you with having to imply I'm a loose-legged bimbo for the thousandth time," Samus sarcastically quipped.

"Oh, I insist," GLaDOS said before reading from her data banks. "'The Nymphomaniac Personality Sphere, also known as the Sex Core, was designed to test the sexual desire processors in other Personality Cores. A secondary objective of the Sex Core is to satisfy its own uncontrollable mental, emotional and biological need for fulfilling sex by attracting a superior Personality Core."

"That doesn't explain anything! OH!" Samus gasped. The pointy probe extension frizzled her pubic hair on end as sparks jolted her clit. Swelling dark red, the outer organ retreated toward its cove as her folds suckled around Wheatley's heating sex mechanism.

"I'm sorry, I forgot who I was talking to. I'm going to switch to a much... simpler... thinking... voice profile. Any similarities to persons living or dead are purely coincidental." A cheesy record scratch sound byte blared through the decontamination unit, followed closely by a familiar voice, its pitch and tone unmistakable.

The bounty hunter listened helplessly as the AI imitated her vocal patterns with more than a dash of vapid Valley whore.

"That Core is sooo smarter than me and junk! Like, if he was with me when I was a bounty hunter, he coulda counted to make sure I made my $60 a pop, if ya know what I'm sayin'. I mean, how's a girl supposed to enjoy dicks inside her horny puss if she has to think and stuff."

Wheatley's metal cock pounded into her squishy weak point. Industrial age-inspired pistons melded with the wizardry of modern age programming to produce a mechanical sex wonder within the Core, one exerted on Samus like a dumb child toting a loaded gun. The Sex Core trembled at Wheatley's mercy, undone by the one chink in her morph ball armor, stabbed by his unrelenting, stainless steel shaft supplied by Aperture Laboratories' demand.

"Ooooh OOOOOHHH I'm going to kill that fucking AI OOH YES DO ME MORON!" She swung from the mightily endowed Core, defeated, the ravages of sex amplifying each sensation. Her loins perspired clear arousal, mixing with the black machine oil of her robot mate. Through lust -- sweaty, aching lust -- she fell to GLaDOS' whims, embracing her so-called 'superior' consort's clockwork thrusts.

Wheatley hammered his whole sphere self into the final refrains of his pumping act. "Oh yeah, I've got it, I've got it, that's the spot, that's the spooo-DEADLY LASERS!"

Samus moaned, powerless to stop the electric discharge surging through her weakened pussy. Vibrating through 1000 watts of microwave climax, she limply endured her ride from the crescendo of orgasm to the pits of ragged aftersex.

Wheatley smoked, his array of robotics cooling inside his smoldering shell. "Was it good for you babe?"

Disgust welled through the bounty hunter in her post-hormonal release. "Please, stop talking."

"Data Transmission Complete," a friendly female voice announced.

GLaDOS mocked, "Before you offer yourself to any more Personality Cores, I thought you should know there's a bet running in the Aperture Science Party Chamber on how many viruses you will download through your vagina by the end of testing."

Wheatley's inner clamps on Samus' pussy port released. She plummeted, barely caught by a fast-acting Chell. As the port closed, Samus silently analyzed the new data in her suit's system, taken off her research moments later with another GLaDOS announcement.

"Good news, I found a way to get you out of that dirty room. Stay away from the door."

They obeyed. Wheatley rushed down his rail. Chell pressed her back against the door behind her. A pipe dropped through the ceiling, as something clattered against its glass on rapid descent, bounced, and rolled to a stop next to the exit. Samus stared for long seconds at the object, taken by its familiar design... and gasped when she realized its true origin.

"You copied my morph ball bombs!" she accused.

"All devices used for testing were invented by Aperture Laboratories. The Aperture Science Nymphomaniac Personality Sphere was never equipped with bombs due to the danger of the Nymphomaniac Personality Sphere pursuing new fetishes and exploding her genitals."

The bomb flashed white before detonation rocked the decontamination unit. As its light cleared, wreckage swung and squeaked around the new gaping hole.

"Proceed to the next test chamber. If you complete testing in record time, the Aperture Science Party Escort Bot will take you to the party and supply you with cake sex."

Chell ran down the steps, entered the elevator and descended to the next level.


End file.
